The Truth Untold
by Frootkake Productions
Summary: The Trio in high school. My Theory on how they met, why they hang out, and Warren's fascination with Katrina...Sorta AU


Disclaimer: No one in this story belongs to me.

Okay, so, here's my take on our Trio in high school. Now, I know some of it is going to be inaccurate, but the point was to have fun and see where it went, so I don't wanna hear any whining about how they didn't go to school together or that's not how they met, etc etc. Any other comments I welcome, as always. If you remember any actual students or teachers names, I would appreciate it if you could put that in your review along with what they taught 'n stuff. Groovy. Read on, if you please…

THE TRUTH UNTOLD

            "Who are you?"

            "I'm Andrew…I summoned the flying monkeys to attack the school play."

**Sunnydale, 6 years ago…**

            Warren Meers scanned the hallway for Andrew Wells.  Warren had just been set free of geography class, and had a spare for last period.  Andrew would be switching his art supplies for cooking utensils, and if Warren caught him soon enough, perhaps he could coerce him into skipping home economics in favour of a less womanish endeavor.

As luck would have it, Andrew was just closing his locker.  "Hey, Andy, wanna come back to my place and see my new _thing_?"  

The twinkle in Warren's eyes hinted at something important, but Andrew shrugged, uninterested.  "I can't, Warren.  We're making apple crisp and Ms. Cartwright said that if I miss any more classes I'll be kicked out of the course."  Andrew turned and walked briskly towards his class.

Warren wasted no time in following.  "Come on, Andy, this is really really cool! I finally got—" he glanced at the other students, but none of them were paying any attention.  None of them ever did.  He dropped his voice to a whisper nonetheless, "I finally got my mouser to work."

Andrew stopped abruptly, and almost agreed right then and there.  "I can't lose this course, Warren.  It's my fail safe in case I fail math."  He resumed his trek.

Warren grabbed Andrew's shoulder and turned him around.  "Listen to me _very carefully_, Andrew.  You are not going to fail math."

"I'm not?"

"What kind of a friend would I be if I let that happen to you?"  Andrew averted his eyes.  "Come on, just skip this one last time and then I'll never ask you to again."

Andrew shuffled his feet nervously, feeling like all eyes were on him, even though it was just Warren staring him down.  "Can I make apple crisp at your place?"

Warren grinned merrily.  "Of course!"

*

            Warren led the way downstairs, a spring in his step that made Andrew even more nervous.  Even though they had convinced his older brother Tucker to call in sick for him, Andrew was still worried.  He really did like home ec, especially since Ms. Cartwright always said his muffins or cupcakes or lasagna were the best in the class.  Of course, she didn't tell him that in front of the class, no, she reserved her praises for after the other students had left.  During class she would constantly remind him of his absenteeism.  Ms. Cartwright was a tough individual to understand, Andrew conceded, as Warren unlocked the workroom his parents had allowed him to block off from the rest of the family.

            "Don't your parents ever wonder what you're up to down here?" Andrew inquired, not for the first time.

            "Nope," Warren answered, also not for the first time.

            "Mine would,"

            "That's because—oh, nevermind."  Warren hung the key next to his tools, then turned on the spotlight he had affixed to the ceiling.

            "B-Because why?"

            "Here it is."  Warren beamed, indicating something covered by a sheet.

            "Because—"

            Warren lifted the sheet to reveal his mouser, as inspired by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons and comic books.

            "Oooooh."  Andrew reached out to touch the chrome head.

            Warren slapped his hand away.  "You'll get it all finger-printy," he admonished.

            "Does it work?" Andrew ventured.  "I mean, does it catch mice and stuff like in the comic books?"

            "'Does it work'," Warren mocked.  "Or course it works!  But it doesn't catch mice, at least not yet."

            Andrew furrowed his eyebrows.  "Then what's it good for?"

            Warren picked up the rewired remote control from a Tyco RC truck.  He pointed it at the mouser, saying, "This!"

            Nothing happened.  Andrew waited, as Warren tried again.  Still nothing.  "Maybe the batteries—"

            "Shut up, Chowderhead."  Warren brushed past him, and went back upstairs.

            Andrew scowled at the other's back until it was out of view, then leaned closer to better inspect the mouser that didn't catch mice.  The two-foot high robot looked exactly like its comic book counterpart, except for the tiny antenna sticking out of its neck, where Warren had affixed the receptor for the remote control.  The razor-sharp teeth even looked as if they could chew through a wall.

            "You didn't touch it, did you?"

            Andrew jumped at the sound of Warren's voice.  "No," he reassured him, backing away.

            "Good."  Warren popped the last of the new batteries into his remote control.  "Alright, let's try this again."  He aimed the remote at the mouser.  Instantly, the little machine came to life, gnashing its teeth and stomping its feet.  Then it hopped off the workbench, and marched upstairs.

            "Uh, w-where's it goin', Warren?"

            "You'll see,"

            Andrew followed the mouser as far as the stairs, then waited for its return.  A few minutes passed, something ceramic smashed, and then the mouser marched back.  "Aww, it's bringing us cookies and milk."

            Warren was nodding, grinning from ear to ear.  "Of course, this is just a prototype, and the real thing will be more lethal and less, well, like you, but for now it saves us having to go upstairs for snacks."

            "You're a genius."

            "I know."

            The mouser hopped down to the next stair, sending one of the two glasses of milk for a tumble.  Andrew and Warren looked at each other and shrugged.  

Andrew took the tray from the robot, and carried it over to the coffee table.  "So, are you up to having your ass kicked in _Masters of Teras Kasi_?"

Warren leapt over the back of the couch, and picked up his Playstation controller.  "'Don't get cocky, Kid'."

Andrew put the disc in the gaming console, then took a seat beside Warren.  "We'll see who's cocky."


End file.
